A Dance with Shadows
by Martian Scout
Summary: Roped into a diplomatic investigation, Ahsoka hadn't expected she would be working with Lux Bonteri, a young senator and close friend. As old feelings start to re-emerge, they find themselves in the middle of an ongoing power struggle between two clandestine factions.
1. Ord Mantell

**Hello everyone. For those of you who don't know, I am 082 Martian Scout - my friends call me Scout - and I've been out of the game for a while, so I might be a little rusty at this. My absence was due mainly to prior commitments: a demanding job, qualifications to meet, deployment... Well, I'm here now and I'm going to try get back into the game and make up for lost time. ****I know, I already had one promising story in progress - unfortunately, I have to set it aside due to its intense complexity. So, I decided to start with something clearer. ****And what better way to start than with a story on my favorite couple in Star Wars? **

**Real quick before I begin - I want to thank all of those whom have supported and motivated me to get back on my feet, I'd like to tell you all how awesome you are...**

**...but, of course, it would all be a statement of the obvious. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or anything from that franchise. If I did, I wouldn't have my _current_ job.**

* * *

**082 Martian Scout presents…**

**— A DANCE WITH SHADOWS —**

**…**

* * *

"_Attention: This is Governor Vannor. All spaceports and shuttle platforms are secured in accordance with planetary lockdown. No starcraft is permitted to depart Ord Mantell until further notice. Martial law is now in effect."_

—Worlport Public Broadcast

…

**Ord Mantell, Worlport,  
Republic Embassy, Early Afternoon**

_Why do I always get the petty assignments?_ Ahsoka wondered as she observed Worlport from the shuttle's rear viewport.

It was the coastal capital of Ord Mantell—the Republic's key trading outpost in the Mid Rim, and the nerve center concerning all military campaigns in the northern quadrant of the galaxy. The city itself, Worlport, was a marvelous sight. A sprawling metropolis composed of labyrinthine districts and structures trailing along the sandy shoreline, with the sea to the south and the plains to the north. It looked peaceful, even beautiful. And yet…

…_irrelevant_. At least for the moment. All of the carnage and chaos of the war was taking place further outward to the Outer Rim territories, where the Separatists lie in wait with their droid armies and fleets. She should be out there fighting on the frontline, with Anakin and Rex… Not here on a vacation site, with shining cities and beaches. Why would the Jedi Council send her here, when there were far more important things transpiring? She had wanted to argue, but past experiences have taught her to hold her tongue. Complaining only made her look—and feel—like a child in the eyes of the Council, and she already received plentiful doubt regarding how young she was. Even after she had proven herself a thousand times over.

_Patience_, she thought to herself as the shuttle settled to a landing on one of the Embassy's mooring platforms. Her Master always told her she must have patience, especially in frustrating times. Anakin Skywalker was a hypocrite among many things, but he was still right. She sighed and prepared to disembark. _Patience_…

A reception was there to receive her as she descended from the boarding ramp.

"Welcome to Ord Mantell," greeted a dapper-looking man in a lavender-colored suit, flanked by a guard of clone troopers at both sides. He appeared in his mid-thirties, tall and sinewy, with kempt red hair and a neatly-trimmed beard. "You're the Jedi representative, I presume?"

"Yes. I'm Commander Tano, here on behalf of the Jedi Order," Ahsoka stated firmly. Whenever she dealt with bureaucrats and dignitaries she preferred using her military credentials rather than going by her Padawan status. Commanders were taken seriously everywhere.

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Commander Tano." He said, bowing his head with his hand on his chest. "Governor Donathan Vannor, chief administrator of this region's shipping and provision depot. It's good that you arrived with speed. Our situation grows more and more unstable by the minute." He straightened and gestured with his hand. "Now if you'll please follow me this way, Commander. Time is scarce."

Traversing quickly down the corridors of the Embassy, the Governor strode with an air of urgency and vexation following him. He was moving at such a brisk pace that Ahsoka had to half-walk, half-run just to keep up. Even when she inquired about the situation on Ord Mantell he spoke vigorously and earnestly, as if time really was running out.

"Precisely forty-six hours ago, we had an unexpected—and unwelcome—arrival. This pompous condescending dignitary from some noble house appeared and commanded us to shut down every spaceport and secure every starship and freighter on Ord Mantell, cutting all off-world departures. Not only is he jeopardizing our circulation of resources in this sector, the lockdown is creating a furor throughout the colony—every spacer, trader and military contractor is confined to this lowly rock. To make matters worse, he's posted a fleet just above orbit, forming a blockade for extra measure. He has the entire planet detained."

"Does he have a practical reason for all this?"

"I'm certain he does, at least in accordance of his own opinion." The Governor replied, no small amount of disdain in his tone. "As his proceeding reputation describes, he never acts without purpose, no matter how minor or misguided it may seem. But what can you expect from a Tarkin?"

"Tarkin?" Ahsoka repeated. She knew the name well. "Captain Wilhuff Tarkin?"

"No, actually. Lord Brenald Tarkin, the Captain's brother," he corrected. "I think. Or a distant cousin, perhaps. Who can say? House Tarkin is a very extensive—and influential—family. And the good Lord Brenald evidently has vast connections in high places. Thus the blockade." He sighed. "I sincerely hope you can speak some sense into him and resolve this issue as soon as possible. He was definitely keen on discussing it solely with a Jedi."

"I'll see what I can do." Ahsoka assured.

"Thank you. That's all I ask." They stopped in front of the Governor's office—his title and name exhibited on the door. "Well, here we are." Vannor said, insipidly. "His Lordship is waiting just inside. Best of luck, Commander." And then he turned to leave.

When he was gone, Ahsoka drew a sharp breath and pinged the door. She heard someone on the other side admit her entrance—a deep and somber voice.

Entering, she found a lean, silver-haired man slumped in an elegantly-furnished chair, his hand around a glass on the desk. He looked weary and sullen, with a lined, wizened face, the shadow of a beard forming across his hollow cheeks and chin, and dark circles beneath heavy-lidded eyes. He looked—and smelled—as though he spent a sleepless night in this office, to say nothing of the half-empty bottle beside him. Ahsoka was a little taken aback. She had met Wilhuff Tarkin; the sneering, apathetic, dour-faced military officer—someone she was less than fond of—but if the man before her was truly his relative, the resemblance was faint.

When he saw her standing in the entryway, his left brow raised slightly in a perplexed way that actually _did_ remind her of the other Tarkin. "Yes, can I help you with something?"

"Lord Tarkin," she addressed, "I'm Commander Ahsoka Tano, here on behalf of the Jedi Order."

The Lord straightened on that last part. "The Jedi Order?" he repeated, his gaze more perceptive and quizzical as he studied her up and down. "Apologies, I was expecting someone older."

_You're not much to look at either_, Ahsoka thought, but she knew better than to say it out aloud. "Shall we move on to the matter at hand?" She asked, retaining her decorum.

"Yes, of course." He said, gesturing to the empty chair in front of him. "Please. There's much to discuss, and perhaps little time for it."

"I'm here about Ord Mantell," She explained, taking a seat. "I understand you've enacted martial law and grounded every starship on the planet, preventing supplies from reaching our fleet and outposts in this sector of the Mid Rim."

"You are well-informed." He said, draining his glass. "And yes, I am aware that, given the circumstances with the war, what I'm doing may compromise multiple military campaigns in this sector. However, I have an urgent matter at hand, and it's imperative that no undesignated ship leaves the planet."

"Why?"

Lord Brenald sighed, lowering his eyes. "It's my daughter. She's been kidnapped."

"Your daughter?"

He keyed the holo-projector. "Her name is Ianna." He said as a ghostly-blue virtual figure materialized—displaying a beautiful elegantly-dressed young woman with long auburn curls, almond-shaped eyes and a shrewd smirk. "She's around your age, willful and intelligent. And tenacious, too, just like her mother. She disappeared two days ago."

"So you're doing all of this because your daughter went missing?"

"Not missing. _Abducted_." He corrected, seething on the last word. He stood and turned to the large quadrilateral window. "I'm certain the Separatists are behind it, somehow. I haven't yet received any notices or terms, but I know they mean to use my Ianna as leverage against me and the Republic. This is why I've issued the lockdown: to ensure these kidnappers cannot escape."

He went silent for a moment, hands clasped behind his back, starring at the imposing view of Worlport and its vast warren of districts. Even with his bearing, Ahsoka could sense just how distraught he truly was.

"I'm sorry for your troubles," Ahsoka said, calmly, "and you have my condolences, my Lord, but we _are_ at war—Republic forces are suffering casualties every day. I'm certain if you bring this up with local security—"

"Ord Mantell authorities?" Brenald chortled sardonically. "Do you honestly believe this is a matter I can entrust those scoundrels with?" He replied sternly, returning to his seat. "This world may seem beautiful from above, but it's a rat nest like everywhere else. The locals are lowlifes, the market vendors are miscreants, and the cantinas cater to every assortment of filth there is. Even the constabularies are racketeers, intervening—or ignoring—only whenever it profits them. I will _not_ be extorted."

He took the bottle and refilled his glass.

"I'm sure you understand now why I've requested aid from the Jedi Order over a common sleuth." He sipped. "I need you to find Ianna and bring her back to me safely. Afterwards, I'll lift the lockdown and allow Ord Mantell to resume its galactic trade. Until then, no one leaves until the culprits are captured and my daughter is found."

"I understand, my Lord. And I'll do whatever it takes to find your daughter." Ahsoka said, tersely.

Much of the tautness in his face subsided, and he looked more the tired old man from before. "Thank you, Commander, I…" He paused, appearing to hesitate—as if he was choking on the words. Instead, he drained his glass and reassumed his frigid Tarkin conduct. "I had my informant, Emric, watch over my daughter on Ord Mantell. He will provide you both with the details."

Ahsoka felt her brows raise on that last part. "I'm sorry… 'Both?'"

"You and the consular representative. I assumed you will be working together on the investigation."

"What consular representative?"

That's when the door to the Governor's office opened and a young man spoke. "My Lord, the city atlas files your aide provided appear somewhat inaccurate…"

Ahsoka stiffened. She knew that voice. Yet even when she turned to look over her shoulder, she couldn't believe her eyes. "Lux?"

Lux Bonteri mirrored her shock. "Ahsoka…"

* * *

**Well, I'd say that's a good stopping point for now. Sorry if seemed short and vague - (SPEED READERS!). Like I said, I'm still relearning the game. Progress, not perfection. ****And since I definitely want to see this story through, and I'm still a little rusty at this, I have a proposition:**

**What kind of story should this one be? And that is my question to you. I do intend to make this about the couple, Ahsoka and Lux. I think they're both an excellent team and a lovely couple, and an unfairly upstaged one at that compared to the other couples (Anakin&amp;Padme, Obi-Wan&amp;Satine, etc.), and honestly, I don't care about the other pairings. This one is perhaps the first Star Wars couple in which I've become more than fond of. What I'm wondering is how far should it go in this story. I am planning some suspense and drama - but what kind? In a way, this is like a Telltale story, sort of. Maybe. IDK.**

**To elaborate: Should this just be a friendship story, in which Ahsoka and Lux are friends and must rely on each other as partners, nothing more? Or a romance story, where their feelings for each other rekindle and they become lovers? Or something more graphic, in which I'd have to change the rating on this story to "M"? I personally think Ahsoka and Lux possess the potential to be friends, lovers and teammates throughout the thickest of situations. (And I think there needs to more Luxsoka romances and adventures, because I am NOT satisfied with the scarcity selection.) So I'm doing something about it.**

**I have a lot figured out, but I'm still undecided on direction. So I need your help. Let's build this story together. What do you say?**

**PS: For this to work, I'm going to need descriptive reviews on the matter. Or PM me if you want to discuss it in private. Constructive criticism isn't just welcome, it's ENCOURAGED. It's how we improve. And lastly, don't anticipate a daily or weekly update on chapters. I can't promise that like I use to do back in my heyday. As much as I love writing and Fanfiction, I have to put my other priorities first - I'll do what I can in my free time.**

**Tootles!**


	2. A Strange Reunion

**Yes, yes... It's been a while. Everyone knows! **

**So then, where was I...**

* * *

"I'm surprised to see you here, Ahsoka," Lux said after they took their leave and made their way down the corridor.

"You're telling me." She replied, looking at his attire. "You look good."

"What? This?" He asked, peering down at his stylish cobalt-colored outfit. It was the typical senatorial robes adorned with white cuffs, a light-blue shirt with silver embroidered doublet beneath the decorative cloak, and a Republic's badge of office pinned over his suit's left breast. Not too long ago, it seemed, he was wearing leathers and fatigues. "This is just some formal wear befitting my new station. Now that I'm officially the Senator of Onderon and ambassador representing my people, I figured it's best to look the part."

"That's good to hear. You must be honored."

"I am. Though, in truth, I forgot how… _tight_ these threads were." Lux said, grimacing slightly as he tugged at his collar. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I miss dirt."

Ahsoka smiled. She eyed the badge on his chest. "'Galactic Republic Ambassadorial Consular.' So you're conducting diplomatic investigations now?"

"Yes. It was 'recommended' that I prove my allegiance to the Republic. So, by the Chancellor's decree, I've been tasked to undertake diplomatic assignments outside the Core Worlds on their behalf. In a sense, they've appointed me as their official errand boy. But I don't mind it, really. It makes more sense—and seems more proactive—than sitting in an office on Coruscant, twiddling my thumbs while the fighting takes place half a galaxy away." Lux explained. "Although, when the Republic granted me leave to investigate Ianna Tarkin's disappearance, they had mentioned a Jedi would be evaluating my progress. But I never thought it would be you."

"Well, that's more than anyone told me. My Master and I were with the fleet preparing for a mission when we received a priority message from the Jedi Council, requesting our immediate presence to Ord Mantell to 'resolve the situation without incident.' That was it."

"They intercepted you in the middle of preparations to dump some unknown assignment on you? Sounds vexing."

"Actually," Ahsoka said, "it was my Master who dumped it on me. During our briefing with the Jedi Council he tried to argue by explaining the significance of our current mission, but the Council was adamant. So… he sent me to oversee Ord Mantell's situation while he moves ahead and launches the mission to Cato Neimoidia himself."

Lux frowned. "You say it as though he sent you to run some mundane task."

"I don't mean it like that," Ahsoka replied, turning to look along the corridor's window, to the coastal city of towers and resorts and casinos. "I'm just… frustrated that he would dispatch me to a place like this while he's out fighting on the frontline, alone."

"You sound more worried than frustrated."

He wasn't wrong about that. Anakin is often getting himself into one worse situation after another, and on multiple accounts Ahsoka had always been there to extract him. It was the unspoken consensus between them as Jedi—the Master mentors and the Padawan protects—and her greatest concern was something happening to him while she wasn't there. She was actually quite astonished that Lux noticed her anxiety. _Either he's more perceptive than I give him credit for, or I'm just that predictable_, she thought. "It's a little bit of both, actually."

"I wouldn't fret." He told her, "I've seen firsthand what you can do. And if your Master is the one who taught you everything you know, I'm confident he'll survive long enough to tell you he was wrong about leaving you behind."

Ahsoka smiled.

"Besides…" He added. "Once we alleviate the situation here, you'll be there on the frontline by his side before you know it."

"Thanks." His words didn't fully set her at ease, but they made her feel a little better. "So where do we start?"

"First, we speak with Markos Emric, a mercenary Lord Brenald employed to chaperone his daughter on Ord Mantell. He was the last to see her before her disappearance. Local Security has him held in the Embassy's lower levels awaiting questioning."

"He hired a _mercenary_ to chaperone his daughter?" she asked as they arrived at the elevator.

Lux summoned a lift. "Of course he did. Everyone has a lackey of their own." He handed her his datapad. "According to Markos Emric's file, he was a convicted Corellian gunman awaiting a thirty-year prison sentence until Lord Brenald offered him full amnesty and made him his minion. For reasons unknown, Lord Brenald thought he would make the perfect bodyguard."

"I call it bad judgement." Ahsoka said, reviewing the dossier. This Emric person wasn't anything different from the typical lowlife. A former security enforcer discharged for excessive force and disorderly conduct, took up the profession of a career mercenary freelancer, convicted after being arrested for an alcohol related incident. She didn't know what kind of potential Lord Brenald must have seen in him then. Anyone who was sentenced to prison undoubtedly deserves it.

The elevator opened for them. Entering the lift, Ahsoka handed back the datapad. "So what's your view on all of this?"

"Well, we have a daughter of House Tarkin, the proudest and wealthiest of families from Eriadu, who also hold much favor and influence in the Republic elite. She turns up missing—supposedly kidnapped—and Lord Brenald suspects the Separatists are somehow involved." He assessed as the lift began its descent. "The first and obvious guess would be ransom or leverage."

_That does sound like something they would do_, Ahsoka thought disdainfully. Aside from butchery and assassination, kidnapping and extortion were few of the many dirty tactics the Separatists favored in a war. _But there must be more to this_. She thought about what Lord Brenald had told her before, about how no demands have been made regarding his daughter's safe return. That made her wonder.

As the lift's transit down dragged on in silent deliberation, Ahsoka found herself glancing over to Lux, scrutinizing him with curiosity.

It felt so odd to see him again. Young for a politician, he was just a year older than she, tall, slender and comely with a boyish face; fair skin, brown hair, green eyes. She had formed and fostered many friendships throughout the galaxy, but Lux Bonteri was the one friend she could never forget. They had met a couple years ago, while on a clandestine diplomatic mission—she was accompanying Senator Padme Amidala during her passage behind enemy lines to broker peace negotiations with her former mentor, the Separatist Senator Mina Bonteri, Lux's mother. Despite being enemies by a technicality of the war, they miraculously became friends.

_More_ than friends, she had once thought, but that was another time. The last time they saw each other was the day they liberated his homeworld from the Separatists. On Onderon, the rebels had won their freedom when they drove the droid armies off and restored their true ruler to power. The victory was a celebrated but somber event; Steela Gerrera, the leader of the rebellion, had died in the final battle. It was a great loss for everyone; her brother, her friends, her king, but none took it to heart more so than Lux. He and Steela had nursed a briefly intimate relationship together, and he had been there when she fell to her death at the highlands.

Thinking on that now, Ahsoka wondered if he still thought of that day. She knew she couldn't forget that critical moment, when she had failed to save a life. Too much happened too fast; the sudden pain lancing through her shoulder, Steela's screams as she fell, Lux's devastation after it was over. But whatever grief he might have felt then he didn't show it now. _Politicians mask their true feelings just as Jedi temper theirs_, Padme Amidala had once explained to her. Seeing him with his casual genteel bearing, confident and outgoing as always, she could see now that's exactly what he's doing. That worried her, somewhat.

At the end of their descent, they disembarked the lift to find the main lobby in brimming disarray. Beings from several different species were gathered in large clusters and columns, speaking simultaneously with one another in what seemed like one great loud argument. Ahsoka could feel the anger pulsating around the room, from where the lines started to where they ended with the receptionists cowered behind their desks.

"What's with all the commotion?" She asked Lux.

"Civil unrest. With all air terminals and spaceports secured, the populace here is growing restless and demanding action. This lobby was overcrowded yesterday, but it's only doubled since then, with new problems emerging. There've been offworld migrants, merchant guilds and free-traders who only came to Ord Mantell to refuel and replenish on rations; now they're coming in every day to file complaints, pay extended docking fees, cancel shipping contracts, and route departure requests. The latter is pointless, really. Thanks to Lord Brenald's lockdown, all paperwork just ends up occupying the bottom of someone's desk drawer. No one's going anywhere."

"Sounds bad."

"You should see how the city fares."

They circled past the crowd down the corridor to the Embassy's debriefing room at its end, where a security team was standing guard.

"Excuse us, Captain Ortho?" Lux asked their leader. "I'm Senator Bonteri and this is Commander Tano. We're here to question Markos Emric."

"The mercenary? Of course, sir," replied the prefect. He was tall and slender with flaxen, short-cropped hair and a thick-mustache the color of straw. "The prisoner is detained in Room D awaiting interrogation."

_He said "detained_,_"_ Ahsoka noticed. "Is he being prosecuted?"

"No, ma'am. Lord Tarkin ordered him sent to a stockade until the lockdown is lifted. From what I'm told, he'll be transferred directly to a detention center on Coruscant. Talk about overreacting. Whatever the mercenary did, Lord Tarkin must've found it unforgivable."

"Not surprising." Lux said. "House Tarkin doesn't abide failure."

The prefect led them to the quadrangular cell where they found the mercenary, sulking. Markos Emric was a short and stubby man, with a balding head and dark-bearded jowls. A long line of raised skin ran along the left side of his face, from his left jowl to the eye's parted brow. He was wearing a set of orange prisoner fatigues, with the sleeves rolled up to show his large, burly arms and the zipper drawn halfway open, tight around the frames of his heavyset chest and stomach.

"Markos Emric," Lux addressed. "I'm Senator Bonteri, this is Commander Tano. We're here concerning Ianna Tarkin's disappearance."

The stout mercenary regarded them with his one intact eyebrow raised. "You're the ones Lord Tarkin sent to conduct his little investigation?" he said with a wry smile, "Aren't you kids a little young for the detective's game?"

"Aren't you a little wide around the edges for those coveralls?" Ahsoka rejoined sharply. Beside her, Captain Ortho snickered as the mercenary's mused grin vanished, and she felt a small pang of satisfaction. She could put up with the superior demeanors of higher ranks and bureaucrats, but she wasn't going to stand for the banter of some lowlife gun-for-hire.

It was Lux who returned to business. "You were Lord Brenald Tarkin's agent, tasked with watching over his daughter here on Ord Mantell."

"Aye, I was." Emric said, his eyes narrowed at Ahsoka. "Until the spiteful little brat wandered off."

Ahsoka raised an eyebrow. "Lord Brenald seems to think his daughter was kidnapped? When did she 'wander off?'"

He sighed. "The day before she vanished, I was accompanying her Ladyship throughout the borough of Silver Coast when she dismissed my services for the remainder of the day. I didn't approve her decision—I even reminded her that I answer to her lord father, not her—but the lass was insistent, assuring me she would safely return to the tenements on her own. Instead, when I arrived to escort her to work as scheduled, there was no trace of her."

"So you just left the juvenile daughter of House Tarkin alone and unsupervised for an entire day?" Lux asked.

"As I explained," the mercenary said, coolly, "the lass was insistent. She just wanted one day without some hulking bruiser shadowing after her everywhere she went. Her request was reasonable and even sincere, first time I ever seen her smile since we landed here. My assumption was that she had some special midnight meeting planned with some secret lover or something, so I let her have her way."

Ahsoka wasn't buying it. "There's something you're not telling us."

Rolling his eyes, the mercenary sighed again. "Alright. The lass handed me a thousand credits and asked me to let her slip the leash this once without informing her father."

"So she bribed you?"

"Aye. 'What my lord father doesn't know won't harm us,' were her exact words. The conniving little brat."

"Outfoxed by a teenager." Captain Ortho sniggered. "Small wonder she turned up missing on your watch."

The mercenary glared at the prefect, but Ahsoka stepped in. "Tell us more about the last time you saw Ianna Tarkin. Where was she going, and where did you part ways?"

"I was escorting her Ladyship to work."

"We need details, please."

Emric rolled his eyes. "I was escorting her from her apartment all the way to the Crimson Café, one of the ritzy-looking cantinas on Silver Coast. I dropped her off at the front door, where she handed me the credits and told me to get lost. I watched and waited until she went into the building, making sure she didn't skip out on work and run off, and then I took my leave. Didn't see her again after."

"Ianna Tarkin was working at a café?" Lux asked.

"Aye. A few weeks before, the lass took up a job there as a waitress."

"A _waitress_?" Lux sounded puzzled. "Why would she need to apply for work as a waitress?"

"Well, the lass had exhausted the personal funds she'd brought with her, so she needed to make a living. And living on this planet isn't cheap, especially with today's economy sunk. Simple as that."

"That doesn't answer my question. What would she need to apply for _work_?"

Ahsoka noticed the emphasis in Lux's tone. "Is it really that unusual, a young woman with a job?"

"This is a daughter of House Tarkin we're talking about." He explained. "They're notably the wealthiest and most prominent family in the Republic, accustomed to a lavish and extravagant lifestyle. Why would they even need to work in a mundane occupation? More specifically, why would they _want_ to?"

He did have a point. Ahsoka turned to the mercenary, curious. "Care to elaborate on that?"

The mercenary shrugged. "The lass sought independence. She wanted to strike out on her own in the galaxy, even against her father's qualms. Lord Tarkin sent me with her as a surety, in case she ever had a change of mind and wished to return home."

_Sounds_ _plausible_, Ahsoka thought. "So the last time you saw her was at her place of work, the Crimson Café?"

"Aye. And after I found no trace of her at her apartment the next day, I returned there to question one of her coworkers, a Twi'lek lass by the name of Jennith. She said that Lady Ianna had shown up for work the day before, but she had no idea what happened to her after she left for the day."

"Was Jennith one of her friends?"

The mercenary shook his head. "Hardly. The lass was a loner and a misanthrope. Never went anywhere, never saw anyone. I'm the closest thing she had to a friend, and she could barely stand _my_ company. Although, from what I observed, she seemed to confide in Jennith, but I won't go so far as to say they were friends. Friendly maybe, but they weren't close."

_Close enough to know something, perhaps_. "What can you tell me about her apartment?"

"She was checked in over at the Sunset Lodge, a tenement building on Silver Coast. The spaces were small but sufficient and the rent was reasonable enough, though I can't say the view holds the same quality." The mercenary dug something out of his pocket and handed it to Ahsoka. "Here. Lord Brenald wanted me to give you this personally before he sends me away. You'll need it to get into her room. Maybe you'll find something there I missed."

"Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Emric." Ahsoka said. She examined the keycard, its inscriptions reading the tenement's name, a room number and a bar code, and then slipped it into her pocket. "We'll take it from here."

"My turn to ask a question." The mercenary said as they were about to take their leave. "What makes you so sure you'll find her alive?"

Ahsoka didn't deign to answer. "Captain, we're done here."

* * *

**Well, Chapter 2 down! Sorry to cut this chapter short. I intended it to be longer, with more shocking insights and developments, instead I was only able to produce half the chapter synopsis. I'm still sort of in the beginning the story, where I must establish a little groundwork before we move to the fun parts: conflict and banter! It's actually rather boring - to be honest, I wasn't wholeheartedly interested in Emric's questioning, so I got sloppy. ****(I may change and update it if and when I locate any errors in the fine print). ****But, at least that part's behind me, not I can begin with the actual investigation; breaking down doors, tailing suspicious individuals, maybe a few romantic slipups... Wherever the wind takes Ahsoka and Lux.**

**Thank you all for your reviews, it's good to hear some feedback:**

**_ AhsokaTano141516_: Thank you very much, AT, for being the first reviewer, and I was hoping you'd say romance. Won't be easy, but I hope I can meet your expectations.**

**_Just a Crazy Man_: Your feedback is always appreciated, Crazy. **

**_Lux's Sister_: You say long, descriptive reviews aren't your forte, but you've certainly produced some very insightful feedback. You're probably right, FFN doesn't encourage smut stories - maybe romantic flings with some mature description, but nothing that crosses the line. Regardless, I'll try to keep this one clean and "lemon-free," as you described it. (After all, I can always make one-shots and AU's for things like that.) Also, I have been thinking about your proposal: Lux would harbor some form of resentment with the investigation, and I can see him and Lord Brenald being at odds with each other. So perhaps I'll do both. I found myself thinking about creating a history between their two families, House Tarkin and House Bonteri. **

**_Johnt12345_: I think your review was probably the best feedback I've had for Chapter 1. (I know, _other readers_, that's a pretty insensitive thing to mention in front of everyone.) Your review was the longest and the most insightful, and I'm glad you took the time to make it so and I hope I can encourage you to continue reading and providing lengthy feedback. **

**_Jeff_: Thank you. I hope it can live up to that standard.**

**Reviews and constructive criticism is not only welcome, it's encouraged. Until the next update! Tootles!**


	3. The Crimson Cafe

**NOTE: In Chapter 3, I have**—**again**—**changed the aspects of Redhead's gang in order to better serve the intended objective. I'm sorry! I just can't make up my mind. Also, Johnt12345 pointed out a phrase that didn't quite sound right, so I just had it removed.**

**...**

* * *

**Silver Coast, Afternoon **

As they navigated south into Worlport's suburban district in Lux's rented landspeeder, Ahsoka stared aimlessly out the viewports, thinking back on Emric's recounting of Ianna Tarkin's disappearance. _What makes you so sure you'll find her alive?_—the mercenary's parting words echoed in her thoughts. _Jerk_. Whatever inspired Lord Brenald to pardon and employ such a wretch for _anything_ was beyond her, but it was his story that made little to no sense.

She understood that the mercenary had allowed Ianna to "slip the leash" without informing Lord Brenald… but he had neglected to explain what that was all really about. It almost sounded like she had been up to something that night, something either waywardly mischievous or outright dangerous that she didn't want her father knowing about.

Staring out the viewport, Ahsoka tried to imagine what a juvenile girl would get into in a place like this… and realized she didn't have the slightest clue. As a Jedi, she never really understood the interests of regular beings, nor what they did at their leisure. Lux was closer to understanding Ianna than she, and yet even he shrugged.

"Nightclubs, casinos, beaches… where _wouldn't_ she go?" He said when she brought it up. "When it's not a key supply hub, Ord Mantell holds many recreational outlets, especially ones where a juvenile girl would sneak off to against her father's wishes."

"Right, but why bribe her bodyguard to disregard his duty? That doesn't make any sense."

"You think Emric was lying?"

"He's a mercenary, Lux. Nothing they do is 'honest.'"

Lux smirked. "Valid point. Though I think Emric might be a rare exception. Before we left the Embassy, I verified Ianna Tarkin's registration. He didn't lie about the leads. Ianna was, and currently is, checked into the Sunset Luxury Lodge on Silver Coast, and she was employed as a waitress at the Crimson Café before her disappearance."

"Okay, he told _some_ truth, but I'm not convinced he told the _whole_ truth. Half of his story didn't make sense," Ahsoka said. "He knew what the consequences would be if he failed to protect Lord Brenald's daughter. There's no way he could have been so careless as to leave her unsupervised. Even if he was paid off."

"To commandeer your point, you do realize you're talking about a career gun-for-hire detained after a drunken incident, right? From what I know about mercenaries, carelessness is customary," he explained, "and they'll do anything for credits. Especially without asking questions."

"Right, that's the other thing on my mind. If I recall correctly, he mentioned that Ianna had 'exhausted' her personal funds during her stay here on Ord Mantell, which evidently left her to take up a mundane occupation. And yet she happened to have a _thousand_ credits at her disposal to produce a bribe. How exactly does that occur?"

"Tips, maybe?"

"Be realistic, Lux."

"I am. Unless she was smart and conserved her weekly earnings, Ianna could've received a substantial tip from a very generous and wealthy patron. According to its reputation, the Crimson Café undoubtedly caters to a wide variety of clients, and, given the odds, someone's bound to take an interest in a young pretty waitress wafting from table to table."

Ahsoka found his statement unsettling. He was right, tabcafs and cantinas were the type of hangouts for virtually every class of clientele; from the wealthy and privileged to the sleazy and dishonest, and everything in between. Basically, Ianna's abductors could have simply posed as regulars and gained access to the Café, where they could easily keep watch on their target and plan a kidnapping. That gave her cause to think on this "generous patron" speculation.

Moments passed in silence as they cruised through the lively crowded boulevard of Silver Coast, where the sun was exceedingly bright in the clear blue sky and the salt of the ocean was heavy in the wind. Here, the shore swept across streets, walkways, yards, houses, condos… covering the entire suburbs in a beautiful shimmering coat of grey sand.

Ahsoka looked over to Lux, but he seemed unimpressed. He stared silently at the road, his expression unreadable behind the pair of dimmed lenses he wore over his eyes. Again, she regarded his outfit—before leaving the Embassy, he had changed out of his senatorial robes into more casual-looking attire: a green tartan-pattern shirt with beige-colored slacks, a dull-looking coat, and a matching pair of shoes. "Plainclothes," he called them, so that he could blend in with the crowd if need be.

_Probably should've picked a different shirt_, she mused, Lux looked extra conspicuous in green. She wanted to tell him as much, or just… talk to him, if for no other reason than to break the awkward silence between them, but she didn't know how to make small talk, in general.

She mustered the courage. "So… What's new?"

Not taking his eyes off the road, Lux turned his head slightly. "Excuse me?"

"I mean…" She fumbled for the right words. "How have you been since we parted ways on Onderon? Are you settling in alright with the Republic?"

"Yes, for the most part," he replied. "Although, my transition did come off to a rather arduous start."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, to put it mildly, there were a few representatives within the Senate that didn't approve of seating me in the Republic due to my… _upbringing_ with the Separatists."

"Why would that matter now? You renounced all ties to the Separatists."

"I did, but everyone knows all too well my mother was the late Senator Mina Bonteri, who had seceded with the Confederacy of Independent Systems before the war, and while it matters little to most now, several upstanding members of society are unwilling to overlook that detail. Vice Chair Mas Amedda, for one, had openly expressed his skepticism regarding my admission to Supreme Chancellor Palpatine. Suffice to say, I've made as many enemies as I have friends my first day on Coruscant."

"Seriously?" Ahsoka asked, incredulously. "Don't they know that you took up arms _against_ the Separatists to liberate your homeworld?"

"Of course they do, but that's far from the point. Vice Chair Amedda is merely being precautious and suspicious, and rightfully so, but the rest were my mother's enemies, political rivals she had undermined and humiliated back when she was… still alive." He said, frowning, "They hated my mother, plain and simple. Beyond that, none of them care if I'm a renegade or a spy, their only aim is to discredit me."

"All because they were at odds with your mother? That's childish."

"That's _politics_. People will utilize any reason to vilify their rivals," he explained. "It's a part of the reason I enrolled in diplomatic investigations, to prove myself. I was fortunate Senator Amidala was there to vouch for me, otherwise they would've had their way. Her support and those of her colleagues yielded enough votes in my favor and granted me legitimate status as a member of the Republic Senate."

"That's great," Ahsoka said, smiling. Padme Amidala was the Senator of Naboo and a dear friend to Master Skywalker, and somehow she knew she could trust her to watch over Lux. Back before the Clone Wars broke out, she had been his mother's protégé, studying galactic politics under her guidance, and they had both sustained a friendship even when the war set them on opposite sides of the conflict. Knowing her, it made perfect sense for her to honor Mina Bonteri's memory by mentoring her son in turn. "I'm glad she was able to help you."

"As am I," he replied, not taking his eyes off the road. "I didn't think I would have gotten very far on my own, especially with my newfound adversaries so determined to slander me. I'm grateful Padme gave me a chance."

"You deserve it, Lux," Ahsoka said. "Your people couldn't have chosen a better senator to represent them, and I know you'll make everyone proud."

"I appreciate your faith in me. I only hope I can live up to it."

"Of course you will. I believe in you, Lux," she told him. Sheepishly, she added, "As does Padme and King Dendup and all of Onderon. And once we find Ianna Tarkin, the whole Republic will know you're true to your word. And I know Lord Brenald will appreciate his daughter's safe return. He may even owe you a debt."

"As long as he remembers who came to his aid in his time of need," he replied with a bitter edge to his voice. Then he glanced momentarily over to her, smiling. "But thank you, Ahsoka. That really means a lot."

"Anytime." She replied, returning the smile.

The drive grew quiet again, but the silence felt much less awkward than before, much to Ahsoka's relief. She was staring out the windshield, watching the coastline appear in the distance, when Lux suddenly started chuckling.

She peered at him. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing, really. It just occurred to me that, besides the Supreme Chancellor and the Vice Chair, Padme was the only other person aware that I was undertaking the Ianna Tarkin investigation," he explained, "when I mentioned to her that I was leaving for Ord Mantell, she offered an escort of her best sentries to accompany me, which I had politely refused. I should've realized she wouldn't take 'no' for an answer."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, she was persistent in dissuading me from undertaking this assignment alone. And, from what I know, she does have direct connections within the Jedi Order, particularly your mentor, Anakin Skywalker…"

Piecing the facts together, Ahsoka straightened. "Are you implying Padme had a part in my reassignment to Ord Mantell?"

"It is a distinct possibility. And it seems more probable than mere coincidence," he pointed out, "After we've resolved the matters at hand, I do hope to have a word with Padme."

Ahsoka made a mental note to speak with Padme later, too. She had a few questions of her own.

* * *

After the landspeeder was parked, Ahsoka stepped out to look at the Crimson Café, wedged between two equally small buildings on the opposite side of the street. A large visual sign was mounted above the entrance, with the cantina's name wrought in vivid neon letters around a depiction of twin vintage glasses toasting in sequence. From outside, it seemed like an ordinary laidback public establishment in the southern suburbs of Worlport.

Inside, however, Ahsoka was taken aback. Moderately vibrant music wafted throughout the crowded diner, where the rows and columns of occupied booths and tables were gathered. Wall to wall were various portraits and decorations between the long elaborate tapestries of crimson that hung everywhere. A ring of radiant neon lights arched around the ceiling, forming a magnificent halo overhead. But what struck Ahsoka as most bizarre were the women.

_The staff_, she presumed, judging by the crimson coloration of their uniforms—if anyone could even call them that. Every waitress in the building was a young woman, both human and nonhuman, clad in small, revealing clothing: tight-fitting halter tops, miniskirts and sandals. They moved about the diner, flaunting and brazenly with trays and pitchers in hand, drawing looks of fascination from several male customers.

"What kind of diner is this?" Ahsoka asked.

"Clearly the kind that attracts a large clientele. Literally." Lux replied.

Ahsoka noticed how he took in the sights with a keener interest than she was comfortable with. Narrowing her eyes at him, she cleared her throat.

He gave her an innocent look. "What? I was just admiring the tapestry."

"Sure you were."

They stood in the small entryway taking in the sights when a pretty Balosar attendant approached. She was young, fair and skinny, with two antennapalps sprouting from her mass of orange-dyed hair. Ahsoka tried to ignore how… _revealing_ her uniform was; with the low-cut halter top displaying the cantina's twin vintage logo while the arms and midriff were left bare, the short miniskirt concealing only half her thighs, and the small seashell sandals on her feet. _How could anyone wear _that_?_ She wondered as the attendant approached them, smiling and confident.

"Hi. Welcome to the Crimson Café," the attendant greeted. "Can I get you a table for two, or would you prefer a booth?"

"Thank you, but we're actually here to meet someone," Lux said, courteously. "Do you know Jennith?"

She blinked. "Jennith? Of course. She's our bartender, you can find her in the back."

They thanked her and made their way across the crowded diner, weaving past the array of admiring regulars and underdressed waitresses. How can anyone work dressed like this? Ahsoka tried to ignore all of it. This place felt chauvinistic and demeaning; it reminded her of some crooked cantina or sleazy nightclub in Coruscant's lower levels. She found herself considering Lux's own doubts from before. _Why _would_ Ianna seek employment here, of all places? _

They found the bar area, dimly-lit and scarcely occupied, compared to the rest of the diner. _Quiet, too_, Ahsoka noticed as she entered the enclosure fitted with a type of sound-dampening glass that effectively muted all of the clamor of the main hall, giving it a rather tranquil atmosphere.

Behind the bar counter stood a purple-skinned Twi'lek, who was casually furbishing the inside of a glass tankard with a piece of cheesecloth. She appeared around her late-thirties, her long slender head-tails coiled around her neck, with a beautifully angular face of smooth lavender-shaded skin, taut lips, and long dark eyelashes.

Approaching the counter, Ahsoka cleared her throat. "Excuse us? Jennith?"

"That's my name," the Twi'lek replied nonchalantly with a husky voice. She regarded them momentarily with jaded lilac-colored irises. "Don't serve alcohol to minors. Sorry, kids. Crimson's policy."

"Understood, but we're actually here on official business. May we have a moment of your time?"

The Twi'lek didn't look impressed. "Official business, eh? In regards to what?"

"We're looking for someone, a girl who used to work here. Do you know Ianna?"

Jennith paused. "Ianna _Tarkin_?" she replied as she looked at them with narrowed eyes. "What do you want with her? Because you don't look like law enforcement."

Before Ahsoka could answer, Lux interjected. "Private investigators, actually," he said. "Her father sent us to find her, and we understand you knew her best. She's… missing."

"Oh. I see." Jennith frowned. She set the clean tankard down on the counter and leaned against the wall behind her, arms folded and eyes downcast, and muttered something beneath her breath that sounded vaguely like a curse in Twi'lek.

"Is everything alright?" Ahsoka asked, concerned.

Jennith sighed. "No. Not really, no. But thanks for asking," she said, gloomily. "Yeah, I knew Ianna, but not as well as I would've liked. She seemed like a nice girl, quiet and demure, but she was also withdrawn, for lack of a better word—she hardly spoke and never opened up to anyone. Not that anyone was eager to befriend her; most misjudged her because of her name and family. Wasn't fair, so I'd let her sit here at the bar during her breaks and listen to her sulk and complain about waiting on tables. Never quite understood why she applied for a job here, anyway."

"Yes, that's a curiosity I've been unable to fathom, myself," said Lux.

Ahsoka elbowed him, and turned to Jennith. "When you last spoke to Ianna, did she mention what her plan was?"

Jennith shook her head. "She didn't utter a word of it to me. She just handed in her uniform, we said our goodbyes, and then she took her leave with her boyfriend."

"Boyfriend?"

"Well, I assumed it was her boyfriend, based on the enamored way she acted whenever she brought him up in conversation. Anyway, the last time I saw Ianna, she had mentioned her bulky escort with the beard was 'otherwise engaged'—as she put it—so she was hooking up with her boyfriend that night."

"Do you know where they went?" Beside her, Lux had his datapad out and his stylus in hand. "Are there any local sites in the area that are considered popular or recreational to the public?"

"Aside from the Crimson Café, you mean, wise guy?" Jennith replied with a glare.

Lux stiffened. "Forgive me, I wasn't implying…"

The Twi'lek waved it away, nonchalantly. "Spare me the apology, kid, I know what you meant. Anyway, what you're asking won't narrow your search much. Worlport is brimming with all sorts of recreation sites, catering to locals and outsiders alike. Silver Coast is where you'll find the beaches and campsites, with a few cantinas in the suburbs. Weather's always so kriffing perfect, so they might've gone sailing or something. But it's just as likely they went north to the central part of the city, where all the trendy and exclusive casinos and nightclubs are, like the Lucky Despot Casino or Eternity. People never shut up about that place," she said. "Of course it's possible they just retired back to her apartment. Or her boyfriend's, for all I know. Can't be certain."

Ahsoka bit her lip. "Her boyfriend. Do you know anything about him?" she asked. "Who he was or what he looks like?"

"Very little, I'm afraid. I only saw him once, a few weeks ago when Ianna first caught his eye, but I didn't like the look of him. He was human, young and handsome with trendy-looking red hair, and he sashayed through the Crimson with this smug expression, like he owned the place. Couldn't tell you what his name was, though. I never spoke with him personally, and Ianna never shared his name. If you ask me, he and his posse were just a bunch of punks."

"His 'posse'?"

"Yeah, he had a pair of dangerous-looking goons with him when he showed, like armed guards or something. By the look of them, I'm guessing they were one of the local street gangs that occupy south Worlport."

"Could you describe them? Did they wear any distinctive clothing or bear an insignia of some kind?"

Jennith thought for a moment. "Well, Redhead was wearing this black leather jacket but I couldn't see any 'insignia' from my angle. The other two, on the other hand, were about the same age, young and rough-looking, and they were sporting this peculiar-looking getup—some type of gray body armor. If I had to take an educated guess, they were with the Blades."

Ahsoka raised an eyebrow. "The 'Blades?' Who are they?"

"They're the biggest gang of thugs here in Worlport; they never play nice, never fight fair, and they aren't fond of tourists. Then again, they've been preying on locals and offworlders alike. They're like animals. I told Ianna as much, but she apparently went and hook up with Redhead despite my warnings. Her appeal to danger is just… well, toxic, for lack of a better word."

_A better word than I can think of_, Ahsoka thought. "Is there anything more you can tell us?"

Jennith shook her head. "Only this: Ianna is a good kid, make no mistake on that. She's just… she's getting involved with the wrong crowd, Redhead and his gang, and probably for all the wrong reasons. And let me just add that there are plenty of safer ways to infuriate your father."

* * *

**NOTE: This Chapter may be subject to change: meaning I may update it with spelling and grammar corrections, changes and additional story content. To inform you of any updates and additions, I will either a) Remove and Re-Post the updated version of this chapter, which will instantly notify your Follow settings or b) simply Replace the chapter and add a Notification in the Story Summary.**

**Also, sorry for the outrageously overdue update, I have just been overwhelmed for the past four months dealing with real-life mandates: work-related issues, transition planning classes, advancement exams, and (perhaps the most exhausting) family visiting. So, I appreciate your patience with me and my ridiculously slow progress, I had not anticipated the chapter taking this late to write and I'm not even sure how long the next one will take. It's going to be awhile, I'm sorry to say. **

**Before I conclude this AN, let me express my thanks to SnipsandSkyguy4590, Lux's Sister, Just a Crazy-Man, and SmilingStarcat for their feedback in the previous chapter****—t****heir reviews gave me just the encouragement I needed to complete this chapter, and I probably would've given up without them. And that's no exaggeration, it's very difficult to maintain that creative spark when no one puts a word in. **

**So, when you have the opportunity, leave a review and hopefully I'll have Chapter 4 ready soon. Well, sooner than this one was. No promises. Tootles!**


End file.
